On the Fourth Sunday of Lent, the gospel reading is the famous parable of the “prodigal son.”
It is a moving story that teaches us about God’s love for us and his willingness to forgive us no matter what we have done.
But there is more to the story than meets the eye . . . much more.
Here are 12 things you need to know.
1. What does “prodigal” mean?
The word “prodigal” is mysterious to us. Almost the only time we ever hear it is in the title of this parable.
It’s basic meaning is “wasteful”–particularly with regard to money.
It comes from Latin roots that mean “forth” (pro-) and “to drive” (agere). It indicates the quality of a person who drives forth his money–who wastes it by spending with reckless abandon.
That’s what the prodigal son does in this story.
2. Why does Jesus tell this parable?
This question is answered at the beginning of Luke 15, where we read:
[1] Now the tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear him [Jesus].
[2] And the Pharisees and the scribes murmured, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.”
[3] So he told them this parable . . .
Actually, Jesus tells three parables:
The parable of the lost sheep
The parable of the lost coin
The parable of the lost son (or, as we know it, the parable of the prodigal son)
All three parables are on the subject of recovering the lost, which is the implicit explanation of why Jesus receives sinners and eats with them: They are lost, and he wants to recover them.
Interestingly, the parable of the prodigal son (and the parable of the lost coin) occur only in Luke.
3. What’s happening in the parable?
Jesus’ parables are based on real-life situations, though they often veer off from the expected course of events in surprising ways. Those surprises teach us lessons.
Here, Jesus relates the situation of a father who has two sons, one of whom can’t wait for his inheritance.
In Jewish society, there were laws regarding how inheritances were typically divided. The oldest brother got a double share (cf. Deut. 21:17), while the other brothers got a single share.
When there were two brothers (as here), the older brother would get 2/3rds of the estate, and the younger brother would get 1/3rd.
Thursday is the feast of St.s Perpetua and Felicity.
Many have heard their names. They’re early saints mentioned in Eucharistic Prayer #1 (the Roman Canon).
But often we don’t know much more than that, which is a pity.
They have a dramatic story, which St. Perpetua recorded herself in the days before her martyrdom. It also records the visions she received during this time.
Here are 10 things you need to know.
1. Who was St. Perpetua?
She was a young Christian woman and martyr, who died just after the year 200 in North Africa. When she was still a catechumen, she and several acquaintances were taken into custody.
And among them also was Vivia Perpetua, respectably born, liberally educated, a married matron, having a father and mother and two brothers, one of whom, like herself, was a catechumen, and a son an infant at the breast. She herself was about twenty-two years of age.
No mention is made of her husband, who may have already been dead.
After being baptized, Perpetua received several visions and was eventually martyred. We also learn about her companions and other members of her family, including her father and her younger brother, who had died previously of cancer.
2. What is the “Martyrdom of Perpetua and Felicity”?
It is a document describing what happened to Perpetua and her companions. It is also called “The Passion of the Holy Martyrs Perpetua and Felicity.”
The document is composed of a preface followed by six chapters.
What is particularly special is that about half of the document was written by the martyr herself:
Chapters 1-3 were penned by St. Perpetua while she was awaiting execution.
Chapter 4 was written by one of her companions and fellow-martyrs, Saturus.
Chapter 5-6 (and the preface) were written by the anonymous editor, who was apparently an eyewitness of the martyrdoms.
3. What does Perpetua’s writing reveal about her father?
As we look forward to the coming conclave, it’s natural to ask, “How long will it last?”
Nobody knows at this point, but it’s possible to get a sense by looking at history.
Here are some surprising things you may not have known.
Birth of the Conclave
In the history of the papacy there have been periods in which the chair of St. Peter was vacant for startlingly long periods of time, at least by modern standards.
The longest of these occurred after the death of Pope Clement IV in 1268.
After he died on November 29th of that year, there was no new pope until September 1 of 1271, when Gregory X became pope.
That’s a gap of almost three years (and just over 1,000 days).
This happened because the cardinals were deadlocked and could not agree on a new pope.
To pressure them into coming to a conclusion, the magistrates of Viterbo (where they were meeting) locked them up, reduced their rations to bread and water, and tore the roof off the palazzo where they were housed, to expose them to the elements.
Even so, it took a year after that!
When it was all over, Gregory X introduced a new law, based on what had happened, which essentially called for the modern conclave system, where the cardinals are sequestered until they get the job done.
It took a while for the conclave to stick, but this is where it started.
The Last 500 Years
Here’s a chart of how many days all of the papal elections have taken since October 1503–more than 500 years!
As you can see, the length is all over the place before we get to a certain point.
The very first entry (at the far left) is the election of Julius II in October 1503, which was the shortest papal election on record, taking only a few hours.
Then it spikes up and down, reaching the highest peak in 1740, with the election of Benedict XIV, which took a whopping 183 days!
And then, after the election of Gregory XVI in 1831, something changes.
The length of conclaves becomes much shorter and consistently falls within a narrow range.
Many people have been talking about a woman who calls herself “Maria Divine Mercy.” She has made dramatic claims in the form of alleged private revelations.
She claims to have predicted Pope Benedict’s resignation in advance.
She also claims that he will be the last pope on earth, that the next pope to be elected will be the false prophet, and that the Second Coming is about to occur.
What should we make of these claims?
Here are 9 things you need to know.
1. Who is “Maria Divine Mercy”?
We don’t know.
According to her web site, she is “a Roman Catholic married mother of a young family living in Europe [and] says she has been receiving from the Holy Trinity as well as by the Virgin Mary.”
She writes anonymous, stating, “The woman wishes to be known by the name Maria Divine Mercy and says that it is the wish of Jesus that she remains anonymous to protect her family and to avoid any distraction from the messages.”
“The messages have been received by her since November 2010 and are still ongoing. Over 650 have been received.”
In a YouTube interview, she claims to have been a business woman and speaks with what appears to be an Irish accent.
2. What does she say about her own role in God’s plan?
Maria says the messages are also being given to help prepare the world for the Second Coming of Christ which will follow The Warning. . . .
Maria was told by Jesus that she is the 7th Messenger, the 7th Angel sent to reveal to the world the contents of the Seals in the Book of Revelation which can only be opened by the Lamb of God, Jesus Christ. He will open the Seals and reveal, in advance, the contents. Maria has to publish them as each Seal is opened. He has told her she is the end time prophet.
3. How Popular is Maria Divine Mercy?
Her FaceBook page–Jesus to Mankind–presently has more than 17,000 “Likes,” which is quite a substantial number.
She also promotes her message through a web site–www.TheWarningSecondComing.com–and she sells copies of her revelations in the form of books titled The Book of Truth (vol.s I & II).
She is apparently popular enough that there are knockoff web sites also repeating her messages. Her own web site contains a warning against the knockoffs.
4. What has Maria Divine Mercy said about Pope Benedict?
It’s common for Catholics to say that a newly elected pope is “God’s choice” or that, the Holy Spirit chooses the new pope.
There’s a sense in which this is true.
But does that mean that we can just sit back and assume the ideal candidate will be elected?
If so, why do we need to pray for the election of the new pope?
And what has Pope Benedict XVI had to say about the matter?
The Mystery of Providence
Since God is omnipotent, he could stop any particular thing in the universe from happening. Therefore, if something does happen, it is only because God allowed it to happen.
If God chose to allow it, anything that does happen could–in this broadest sense–be described as God’s choice.
But that does not mean it is what God prefers.
There are a lot of things in history that God allowed but that would not have been his “first choice.”
Take the fall of man and our redemption by Christ. In one sense, that’s clearly God’s choice. But we cannot ascribe Adam’s sin to God as his ideal choice.
How man’s free will relates to God’s providence is complex, and we should be careful of simplistic solutions.
Pope Benedict’s resignation has stirred up a good bit of discussion of the so-called “Prophecy of the Popes,” attributed to St. Malachy of Ireland (1094-1148).
The prophecy is a list of 112 mottoes that allegedly describe the popes stretching from St. Malachy’s time to the end of time.
Supposedly, Pope Benedict is identified with #111, which means that there’s only one more pope to go, according to one interpretation of the list.
According to supporters of the prophecy, it’s an authentic revelation from God that we can trust.
According to critics of the prophecy, it’s a forgery that was most likely written around 1590 and that cannot be relied upon for knowledge of the future.
Who’s right?
What Has the Church Said?
Although the prophecy has been influential in Catholic circles for several centuries, I can find no evidence that the Magisterium of the Church ever endorsing it.
This places the prophecy in the category of a reported but unapproved private revelation.
My own policy when dealing with reported but unapproved private revelations is to keep them at arm’s length. I don’t dismiss them out of hand, but I don’t embrace them, either.
The fact that we’re claimed to be up to #112 on the list, though, is creating a sense of urgency for some to figure out whether the prophecy is trustworthy, though, so I decided to dig a bit deeper.
Here’s what I found . . .
Missing History
Although the prophecy is attributed to a 12th century figure, it wasn’t published until the end of the 16th century. We have no references to it in the interim, including from sources who would be expected to mention it (e.g., biographers of St. Malachy).
That’s a mark against its authenticity.
The suggested explanation for why there is no mention of it in the first 450 years after it was allegedly written is that it was hidden in an archive in Rome and not rediscovered until around 1590.
That would explain matters, but it’s still a mark against its credibility.
Further, I don’t know if we even still have the original document or whether it’s been authenticated by any of the various means available to us today. I’m not aware of any supporters of the prophecy claiming this, though if any do claim it, I’d love to see the evidence.
Until such time, though, it’s a mark against the document.
Sensational documents allegedly found in Vatican archives and dealing with the end of the world are, in principle, not to be trusted. It’s too easy and too tempting for people to fake those.
Alternative Explanation Credible
The alternative explanation for the origin of the prophecy–that it was forged around 1590–appears credible.
Critics of the prophecy claim that there is a difference in the mottoes attributed to the popes between St. Malachy’s time and 1590 and those who come after 1590.
Specifically, they claim it is much easier to see how the mottoes fit the popes in the first period than how the mottoes fit those in the second.
I had been aware of this claim but had never looked into the matter. With the current discussion, I decided to do so.
What I did was compose a table of the mottoes along with the popes they allegedly describe and the proposed explanations of how they fit together.
I then went through the list and classified the mottoes as being a “hit,” “miss,” or “vague.”
“Hit” means that the motto can reasonably be connected with a specific pope in a way that does not appear random.
“Miss” means that the motto can’t be so connected. That’s not to say that it can’t be connected with a particular pope, just that the fit is much less clear and requires more “stretching” to connect the two.
“Vague” means that it isn’t a clear hit or a clear miss. I also placed into this category items that, because of their general nature, could fit many different popes.
Examples
Here are a few examples of how I classified particular ones:
HITS
Ex castro Tiberis (“From a castle on the Tiber”). This is connected with Celestine II (1143-1144), who was born in Citta di Castello (City of the Castle), which is on the banks of the Tiber river.
Frigidus abbas (“Cold Abbot”). This is connected with Benedict XII (1334-1342), who had been the abbot of a monastery at Fontfroide (“Cold Spring”).
De parvo homine (“From a small man”). This is connected to Pius III (1503), whose family name was Piccolomini, which is derived from piccolo (small) and uomo (man).
MISSES
Pia civitas in bello (“Pious city in war”). This is connected with Innocent IV (1591), but there is no good way to link him with this motto. Some have pointed to the fact that he was patriarch of Jerusalem before his election to the papacy, and Jerusalem could be thought of as a “pious city,” but so could Rome and many others. Almost any Christian city would count, and Jerusalem was not a Christian city at this time. Furthermore, Jerusalem was not at war when he was patriarch.
Aquila rapax (“Rapacious eagle”). This is connected with Pius VII (1800-1823), but there is no good way to link him with this motto. Some have proposed that his reign overlapped with that of Napoleon and that Napoleon could be described as a rapacious eagle (that is, a hungry commander of armies), but this is very tenuous and makes the motto not a description of the pope but of someone else who was on the world stage during his reign.
Religio depopulata (“Religion destroyed”). This is connected with Benedict XV (1914-1922), but there is no good way to link him in particular with this motto. There is no obvious connection to his name, family, place of origin, or coat of arms. He did not destroy religion or religious life. Neither were either destroyed during his reign. He did reign during World War I, but that did not destroy either. He also reigned when Communism came to power in Russia. That didn’t destroy religion in his day or in Italy. And again, we’d be connecting the motto with something other than the pope. If that were allowed then it would be possible to connect every motto with something that happened somewhere in the world during a pope’s day, and the prophecies would have no particular value as they would all be applicable to any pope.
VAGUE
Iucunditas crucis(“Delight of the cross”).This is connected with Innocent X (1644-1655). The proposed explanation is that he was raised to the pontificate around the time of the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross after a long and difficult conclave. This is a very weak connection (“around the time of”?). More fundamentally, almost any pope at all could be described as “delight of the cross,” either because of the sufferings he endured in his papacy or because of his general love of Jesus. It is too vague.
Vir religiosus (“Religious man”). This is connected with Pius VIII (1829-1830). According to one explanation, it is a play on words on his papal name (a pious man is a religious man). But this is not a strong indicator. It could also apply to other papal names–like Innocent. In fact, another motto involving religion (De bona religione, “From good religion”) is allegedly connected with Innocent XIII (1721-1724), with the word “religion” pointing to his papal name. Furthermore, any pope who had been a member of a religious order could fit the description “Religious man,” as could any pope, period. This is too vague and could fit too many circumstances to say that it fits Pius VIII in a non-random way.
Pastor angelicus (“Angelic shepherd”). This is connected to Pius XII (1939-1958). The proposed explanation is that Reigning during World War II, he is reported to have covertly helped many Jews escape extermination in the Holocaust. This is a weak indicator. Every pope is, by his office, someone who can be described as a shepherd. Every pope that does anything good can be described as angelic. This can fit too many popes. It is vague and cannot be connected with Pius XII in a way that is clearly non-random.
Results
When I went through the papal mottoes in the prophecy, I found that there were, indeed, many more hits in the period before 1590 and many more misses and vagues in the period after 1590.
I do not claim that my rankings are objective. They are impressionistic, and at times it was difficult to decide which category to put something in (“Is this a hit or a vague?” “Is it a vague or a miss?”).
If I spent more time looking at the mottoes, I am sure I would change many of the rankings and slide them from one category to another.
My goal, however, was to get an overall impression of the basic question: Do the pre-1590 mottoes fit the popes of that period better than the post-1590 period fit theirs?
The answer to that question was a clear yes, and further scrutiny and category switching is unlikely to change that basic impression.
The pre-1590 mottoes really do fit their popes better, and that provides evidence for the idea the list was forged around 1590.
There are also other reasons to view the list skeptically . . .
Unmarked Antipopes?
The list contains 10 entries that refer to antipopes, all of them before 1590 (but that’s not surprising since we haven’t had a notable antipope since then).
It identifies two of these as antipopes (Nicholas V = Corvus schismaticus, “Schismatic crow” and Clement VIII = Schisma Barchinoniu, “Schism of the Barcelonas”).
Why doesn’t it identify the other eight as antipopes?
It even identifies some of the antipopes in ways that would make one look favorably on them (e.g., Felix V = Amator Crusis, “Lover of the Cross”; Clement VII, De cruce Apostolica, “From the apostolic cross”).
One explanation might be that the anonymous author, writing around 1590, did not have as precise a knowledge of who the antipopes were as we do today.
This seems a more likely explanation than a divine revelation mentioning antipopes without marking them as such and even speaking of them in positive ways.
No Practical Value
There is also another factor weighing against the St. Malachy prophecy: What is it supposed to do? How is it supposed to help us?
God does not give revelations to satisfy our curiosity, but that seems precisely what the prophecy of the popes is designed to do.
There is almost nothing in the prophecy that could provide a plan of action or guidance in how to live the Christian faith in particular periods (the two figures marked as antipopes being an exception; one could reasonably infer “don’t trust these two guys”).
When God gives revelation, it is to help us in some way. At various points in the Bible, God may use symbolism to communicate his message, but there is always an underlying practical message waiting for us when we have wrestled with the puzzle of the symbolism.
The symbolic prophecies in Daniel or Revelation always have this element. They don’t just give us a long list of symbolic names that provide next to no guidance about how to live our faith.
The problem applies to private revelations–such as this purports to be–for their function is to help us live the faith in our own day. The Catechism states:
67 Throughout the ages, there have been so-called “private” revelations, some of which have been recognized by the authority of the Church. They do not belong, however, to the deposit of faith. It is not their role to improve or complete Christ’s definitive Revelation, but to help live more fully by it in a certain period of history. Guided by the Magisterium of the Church, the sensus fidelium knows how to discern and welcome in these revelations whatever constitutes an authentic call of Christ or his saints to the Church.
A big list of symbolic papal mottoes provides endless hours of intellectual puzzle material to occupy human curiosity, but this is not the purpose of authentic prophecies. They don’t just leave us with a big puzzle. There is some underlying practical help for living the faith, and that is what we don’t have here.
Taken at face value, the prophecy of the popes looks like a big, intellectual puzzle designed to engage our curiosity but do little else.
The End of the World
Finally, there is the fact that the last pope–the one alleged to come after Benedict XVI–is predicted to reign at the end of the world:
Peter the Roman, who will nourish the sheep in many tribulations; when they are finished, the city of seven hills will be destroyed, and the dreadful judge will judge his people. The end.
This is, itself, another mark against the prophecy, because Jesus himself warned us that we would not be able to calculate when the end of the world will come, yet the St. Malachy prophecy has encouraged people to do exactly that. The Catholic Encyclopedia notes:
Cornelius a Lapide refers to this prophecy in his commentary “On the Gospel of St. John” (C. xvi) and “On the Apocalypse” (cc. xvii-xx), and he endeavours to calculate according to it the remaining years of time.
This is precisely the kind of calculation that is most dangerous, that has the worst track record (end of the world predictions having a notorious failure rate), that Jesus warned us against, and that the prophecy of the popes seems to invite us to perform.
Again, this is consistent with the idea it’s designed to appeal to curiosity rather than being an authentic revelation.
Another Possibility?
Some have tried to blunt the idea that we could estimate the end of the world based on the prophecy by proposing there may be a gap in the prophecy–a group of unlisted popes that come between Benedict XVI (Gloria olivae, “Glory of the olive”) and the final pope. Thus the Catholic Encyclopedia states:
It has been noticed concerning Petrus Romanus, who according to St. Malachy’s list is to be the last pope, that the prophecy does not say that no popes willintervene between him and his predecessor designated Gloria olivæ. It merely says that he is to be the last, so that we may suppose as many popes as we please before “Peter the Roman”.
Personally, I don’t see any basis for this. The texts of the prophecy that I have seen do not provide any reason to suspect a gap at this point.
The prophecy goes from Gloria olivae to the last pope without any hint of a gap with additional popes in it.
Furthermore, if we admit a gap here, we have to raise the question of whether there could be gaps elsewhere.
But if we can insert gaps with no evidence into the list (after 1590, take note, there being no need to insert them before since the fits are all too good) then identification becomes impossible and the prophecy’s predictive value is in danger of disintegrating.
My Own Prediction
My guess is that we are not at the end of the world and the new pope will not be the last one.
I therefore predict that, when his reign ends, when another pope is elected, and when people see that the end of the world has not come, the St. Malachy prophecy will fade in the popular Catholic imagination.
As it should.
But I also predict that there will be people who still support it, either positing the alleged gap between Pope Benedict XVI and the final pope or even claiming that the new pontiffs are all antipopes.
I just hope that there aren’t too many of the latter.
Summary
I try to take seriously St. Paul’s exhortation: “do not despise prophesying, but test everything; hold fast what is good” (1 Thess. 5:20-21).
I am not unfriendly to prophecies, and I have as much curiosity about the future as anyone.
But in the case of the St. Malachy prophecy of the popes, I am afraid that it does not appear credible, from either a historical or a theological perspective:
It is an unapproved, alleged private revelation.
It cannot be shown to have existed before 1590.
The predictions it makes for the period before 1590 are markedly better than those it makes after 1590.
Contrary to the nature of revelation (both public and private), it has virtually no practical value.
It speaks of antipopes as if they are popes and even speaks positively of some.
It encourages calculations regarding the end of the world.
There haven’t been that many popes who have resigned, and none of them offer an exact parallel to the case of Pope Benedict.
However, there is one pope–St. Celestine V–who is by far the closest parallel.
Who was he? Why did he resign? And what does his strange case tell us about Pope Benedict’s decision to resign?
In this episode, Dr. Andrew Jones and I discuss the most recent papal resignations, including that of St. Celestine V.
We comment on how Pope Benedict is modeling his resignation after that of Celestine V and what light this sheds on Pope Benedict’s thinking.
We also discuss what this means for the future and why Pope Benedict XVI’s resignation may be as momentous an event in the history of the Church as the development of the conclave.
On June 10, 2004, Pope John Paul II announced a special Year of the Eucharist, which would begin in October of that year and last until October 2005.
It was not the first special year that John Paul II proclaimed.
In fact, it followed close on the heels of the Year of the Rosary (2002-2003), which itself followed the multi-year cycle leading up to the Great Jubilee Year 2000.
Periodically, popes proclaim special, yearlong celebrations to mark important events in the life of the Church and to focus attention on particular aspects of the faith.
While the Year of the Eucharist was not John Paul II’s first such year, it would be his last. He passed away in the midst of the celebration.
At the time, some thought it significant that he passed away during a year devoted to a theme so close to his heart.
When the new pope, Benedict XVI, was elected, he continued the celebration of the Year of the Eucharist, including events planned for it, such as a World Youth Day and a special Synod of Bishops on the Eucharist.
So while he had not proclaimed this year, Benedict XVI completed it.
In time, he called his own specially-themed years. The first of these was the Pauline Year, devoted to St. Paul. This year ran from June 2008 to June 2009. It was timed to coincide with the 2,000th anniversary of St. Paul’s birth, which is generally placed between A.D. 7 and 10.
Yes, there is a physical object known as “the Chair of St. Peter.”
It is housed at the Vatican, at the back of St. Peter’s basilica.
February 22 is the Feast of the Chair of St. Peter.
And there is more to the story.
Here are 9 things you need to know . . .
1. What is the Chair of Peter?
It depends on what you mean.
On the one hand, there is a physical object–an ancient, ornamented chair–located in the apse of St. Peter’s Basilica.
On the other hand, there is the spiritual authority that this chair represents.
Here we will look at both the physical object and the spiritual reality it represents.
2. What is the physical Chair of St. Peter?
This object–known as the Cathedra Petri (Latin, “Chair of Peter”)–is located in the apse of St. Peter’s Basilica. It is in the back of the chamber, behind the famous altar, on the far, back wall, below the the well-known, stained glass image depicting the Holy Spirit as a dove (see above).
This display contains an ancient chair that has been repaired and ornamented over time.
The Catholic Encyclopedia states of the original chair:
The seat is about one foot ten inches above the ground, and two feet eleven and seven-eighths inches wide; the sides are two feet one and one-half inches deep; the height of the back up to the tympanum is three feet five and one-third inches; the entire height of the chair is four feet seven and one-eighth inches.
According to the examination then made by Padre Garucci and Giovanni Battista de Rossi, the oldest portion is a perfectly plain oaken arm-chair with four legs connected by cross-bars.
The wood is much worm-eaten, and pieces have been cut from various spots at different times, evidently for relics.
To the right and left of the seat four strong iron rings, intended for carrying-poles, are set into the legs.